The Problem with Reese

Reese Witherspoon is perfectly adorable (we guess.) But in her new movie, This Means War, we're supposed to believe she's an object of desire capable of setting off a violent feud between Chris Pine and Tom Hardy. Nice try, Hollywood

"Jim said, ’I’m gonna show you every day what a good partner is, what a good person is. I’m going to take care of you. I’m gonna do this so much that you’re gonna get used to it.’ I was like, ’What are you talking about?’ I’ve never had anybody like that in my life."—Reese Witherspoon on husband Jim Toth

In This Means War, Reese Witherspoon plays Lauren, a dance-like-no-one-is-watching, sing-like-no-one-is-listening type (literally, she does both these things), over whom two CIA operatives try to render the other’s penis non-operational. They also break into her house, set up phone taps and secret cameras, and spy on her 24-7. (The Patriot Act has really done wonders for rom-com premises!) If this plot seems vaguely familiar, it’s because This Means War is basically the tranquilizer dart version of 2010’s How Do You Know, in which two nebbishy, less violent dudes compete against each other to win Reese Witherspoon’s commitment-phobic hand. And that movie was essentially the slightly more cerebral version of 2002’s Sweet Home Alabama, in which a city slicker and a backwoods hick compete to wife her up. Someone with better video editing skills than me could (and should) make a supercut of the inevitable scene where Reese Witherspoon escapes to the restroom, and scolds her reflection in the mirror for engaging two men simultaneously: "What on earth are you doing?!" Because the Reese Witherspoon who’s volleying two guys at once is never at ease with it. If she was, she’d be more of an Angelina.

In real life, two men do not fight over a Reese Witherspoon. Reese Witherspoon as the vertex of a love triangle is a Hollywood inception dream architected specifically for ladies. Her characters aren’t designed to be fully dimensional people; they’re everywomen templates onto which you’re supposed to graft your own face. Most actresses have to choose early on whether to cater to men or women. Reese chose women. Or maybe women chose her. She’s pretty in a conventional way, but not too pretty. She’s hardly ever overtly sexy. She’s the kind of celebrity who, under her photo in fashion magazines, you’ll find a headline like "How to Nail A Preppy Look This Fall." She likes talking, or at least pretends to like talking, about love and kids and her humble upbringing.

Over the past few years, it’s become hard to separate the offscreen Reese Witherspoon from the one onscreen. Partly because maintaining her acting career as the Everywoman necessitates acting like the Everywoman all the time. Her magazine interviews feel like Sweet Home Alabama fanfic. Reading one of them is cheaply cathartic, the way seeing one of her romantic comedies is like Look at the good things that happen to a nice, regular woman who doesn’t give up hope! Reese always presents herself as the I-can’t-believe-this-happened-to-me girl, and she’s great at it. When, years down the road, she starts doing I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter commercials, I’ll buy multiple tubs. Some choice Reese Witherspoon quotes:

_"I grew up in Tennessee. We didn’t know what Louis Vuitton was. I had to order all my prom outfits out of catalogs." _

_"I’m not perfect! I’m human. I make mistakes. But I try to be as conscious as I can about things I should be. If I’m going to do something commercial and mainstream and made for the masses, I just believe you can make those kinds of films with quality—and good ideas and good intentions. There`s a lot of negativity out there." _

Reese usurped the Everywoman throne from Julia Roberts at a time when the rom-com kingdom had been reduced to a pile of used bridesmaids dresses. The kingdom came down to Reese and Katherine Heigl—and Heigl turned out to be too bitchy (and probably a little too gorgeous) for the job. Though I suppose there are worse Hollywood nichés to fill. Like Ironically Entertaining. Looking at you, Nic Cage.

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